Chapter Twenty-Seven
Kori sat in the rapidly heating car, bouncing her leg against the floorboard. Three minutes ago, she’d killed the engine in hopes that the car would become too warm to tolerate thus forcing her out. Nothing else had worked. She’d been sitting in the car for the past thirty minutes staring at the Crystal Rock chapter’s clubhouse.
First, she tried an encouraging internal pep talk that fell flat. Then she scolded herself out loud. She’d even tried screaming at the top of her lungs in hopes that it would relieve tension.
No dice.
This seemed to be working though. It wouldn’t be much longer before she had no choice but to leave the car. That or roast.
For the last two weeks, Kori had been hiding out in the cheapest motel she could find, two hours north of Vegas. She’d quit her job, paid cash, used a fake name and a cheesy hat and sunglasses disguise if she needed to leave her room, which she did not do often. She was petrified of being discovered. So many times over the fourteen days, she wanted to drive to Crystal Rock, but the unknowns kept her away. Would Lucky believe her? Would he toss her out on her ass if she showed up? Would her presence put either of them in danger? For all she knew, Rebel was monitoring the club, looking for her there. Hell, were the president and VP of the Crystal Rock chapter trustworthy?
The questions grew more intrusive and she eventually grew so lonely and eager to see Lucky that she was willing to take the chance. Lucky trusted those men. She would trust them too.
A knock on the window, right next to her ear caused her to yelp. Her hand slipped from the wheel and hit the horn, making her jump a second time. Jesus, she had to get a grip.
With an unsteady hand, she opened the door and looked up. And up. And up. A huge hulking form of a man loomed over her car. Everything about the giant was massive; his muscles, his long hair, his height. If it wasn’t for the teasing grin on his face and the twinkle in his eye she may have slammed the door and driven straight out of the lot.
“Everything all right, miss? You sure have been sitting here for a while. Looking for someone you hooked up with recently?” the giant asked.
“What? Uh, no. I’m sorry I’ve been loitering. I just…um…well, it doesn’t matter. I need to speak with either Shiv, or Striker, or both. It’s very important.” She straightened her shoulders and shored up the courage to look the large man in the face. Unfortunately for a few moments, she forgot about the purple bruising across her right cheek. The big guy noticed it and his smile flipped to a scowl.
“I’m Jester, by the way. Who did that to you? One of our guys?” He gripped her chin with a bear paw sized hand that was much gentler than she’d ever have imagined he could be and tilted her face, examining her cheek.
“Uh, no. No one from around here.” She slid a hand over her cheek. So much for expensive makeup. “And I’m Kori.”
He studied her for another moment before pulling her door all the way open. “Come on out, Kori. I believe both Striker and Shiv are in the chapel. They shouldn’t mind an interruption. I’ll walk you in.”
“Thank you.” She slid out of the vehicle. “Wow, I thought Vegas was hot.”
Jester snorted. “Vegas, huh? You ain’t seen nothing yet, girl. Come on, this way.” He led the way into the clubhouse, past a wooden bar, to a set of floor-to-ceiling heavy wooden doors.
Her stomach dipped as his meaty fist rapped against the door and she had to lock her knees to keep from bolting back down the stairs.
“You okay, lady? You’re looking a little green around the gills.”
“Yeah I’m good.”
“It’s open,” a man called from behind the door.
Jester popped his head in. “Hey, Pres, VP, there’s a lady here to see you guys. Says it’s important.”
“All right, send her in, Jester,” a different man answered.
“Thank you for the escort.” She smiled up at Jester.
“No problem. And don’t worry, they don’t bite too hard.” He shot her a wink then ambled toward the bar.
She stepped into the room and found two men sitting on either side of a large rectangular table. One was older, with a gray beard and long gray hair tied in a ponytail. A thick cigar that had burned down to about three inches was between his thumb and forefinger. The stogie emitted a pungent aroma that wasn’t quite as offensive to her as cigarette smoke. Still, the lung cancer lecture was dancing on the tip of her tongue.
The other man was younger, probably upper thirties, with slightly mussed dark hair, an intense expression, and impressive biceps. They sure grew ’em handsome in the desert.
“What can I do for you?” the older man asked. She assumed he was Shiv.
“Um, hello…” Her voice was barely above a whisper so she cleared her throat. “Excuse me. My name is Kori and I need to speak to you about a few things, um, with regards to your club.” She stood in the doorway wringing her hands like a nervous kid, but she couldn’t help it. Her insides were shaking like she was a kid in front of an unhappy principal.
Striker narrowed his assessing gaze then his eyes widened with recognition. “Kori? As in Rebel’s recently discovered daughter?”
“And Savage’s fiancé?” Shiv added.
Well, shit. She should have assumed they’d know who she was. Rebel had been planning some big bash in her and Savage’s honor. It made sense he would invite his Crystal Rock brothers. Hopefully that wouldn’t put her at an immediate disadvantage. If they blindly sided with their MC brothers from Vegas she’d be screwed. And of course, she was complaining to the chapter president and VP about another president and VP. This had failure written all over it.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Hmm,” Shiv said. “Well come on in, grab an empty chair.” The men exchanged a wary look.
She couldn’t blame them, really. Her arrival was quite out of the norm.
“Question,” Shiv asked as she took the empty chair next to Striker’s. “Either of them know you’re here?”
“Ah, no, they definitely do not. In fact, they probably don’t know I’ve left town, and I’d appreciate if it stayed that way.”
Striker looked ready to argue, but Shiv held a hand out. “Next question. This visit have anything to do with that fading bruise on your face?”
Damn it, why did she keep forgetting the freaking bruise? “No, well, it played a strong role in my leaving, but it’s not why I’m here in Arizona.”
“So why are you here? Striker asked, his tone full of impatience.
“Rebel and Savage are selling drugs.” For the entire four-and-a-half-hour drive, Kori rehearsed exactly what she wanted to say to these men. Her prepared speech started with a statement about how she knew the club’s bylaws were important and taken very seriously. Then she’d planned to go on about loyalty and brotherhood, all things that had been touted her entire life by various MC members. Then she’d end with gripping indecision over what was the right course of action to take before finally breaking down and admitting what she knew about Rebel and Savage.
At no point had she decided to vomit out the information in such a blunt manner. Apparently her subconscious had different ideas and decided cutting straight to the chase was the best way to go. If the looks on both men’s faces were any indication, her subconscious may have been very wrong. What five seconds ago was a cautiously wary vibe in the room, now was icebox frigid. Shiv blew out a long stream of smoke and Kori was surprised it didn’t freeze and plunge to the table.
He snubbed out the stump of a cigar in an ashtray that needed to be emptied three days ago, then leveled her with a look she’d never forget. Dark, dangerous, deadly. She was on ice so thin she didn’t dare move.
“Pretty serious accusation, girlie. But I get it. Your ol’ man’s knocking you around. It ain’t what you signed on for. Hell, I even agree it makes him an asshole. And maybe you’re mad at daddy for not being there for you while you were growing up. He missed your dance recitals, your prom, the sex talk. I get it all. But…” His tone was lethal and a shiver raced down Kori’s spine.
Don’t fold.
“You cannot throw shit around like that. You want revenge? Fine. Slash his tires. Yank out the hair of whatever bitch he’s tapping on the side. Rack up daddy’s credit card. Do not fuck with the man’s standing in his club. You have any idea the shit storm you’re on the verge of triggering?”
Was this guy for real? This was what he thought of her? Of women? That she’d concoct this story as revenge for getting slapped? Of course it was. He was an MC president, after all. Please. She could cut the man’s balls off herself for that. Her hands clenched to tight fists.
Striker hadn’t so much as blinked. The muscles she’d admired minutes ago bunched with strain. Kori could literally feel waves of tension wafting in her direction. “Do you have any proof of your claims?” he asked.
Shiv’s jaw dropped and he swung the piercing gaze to Striker. “Don’t tell me you believe this bullshit? Get your head out of your ass, Striker.”
Kori opened her mouth to speak, but Striker beat her to it. “I’m not saying I believe her.” He cast a quick suspicious glance in her direction before refocusing on Shiv. “What I will say is that Jester’s been bitching about Rebel lately. Since we’ve had all this nonsense going on with Acer’s old man, Jester’s been handling business with them. He’s been saying for weeks that Rebel’s been erratic. Missing phone meetings, disinterested in business. He’s been off. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Shit,” Shiv said as he produced another cigar seemingly from thin air.
Okay, enough was enough. “I do not have proof. No physical evidence I can hand you right now. But I’ve seen things, and I’ve heard things. I can tell you exactly where the drugs are. I can tell you exactly when I saw a man they’d beaten nearly to death. Hell, for all I know he’s dead now. I can also tell you that I think the rest of the club is in the dark, but I don’t know how long that will last. Rebel has plans, big plans to grow and expand this business.”
Shiv still glared at her, but the complete disbelief was replaced by a small glimmer of curiosity. A willingness to listen to her. “Why come to us with this?”
“There are good people in that club. People who will either be forced to go along with Rebel’s plan or be harmed. It’s not right.”
“That’s it? You’re just a good Samaritan?”
She shook her head. “No. There are other reasons. But they are my own and have no bearing on the fact that what I bring to you is the truth.” Somehow, she managed to ignore the urge to run and hold his gaze without looking away. She just wasn’t ready to share anything about her relationship with Lucky and how she’d been strong-armed into ending it so tragically.
Thank God, she hadn’t seen him on her way into the clubhouse. She was dying to know if he was there but too chicken to ask. Once she left here, she was off to the east coast. As far from Vegas as she could get while still being in the US.
Shiv lit the new cigar. “Well isn’t this a giant ass fuck.” He turned to Striker. “Get Jester in here. I want to hear his thoughts.”
Striker disappeared and a thick silence descended, the only sound in the room that of Shiv puffing on his cigar. Thankfully Striker was back within a minute. “Pres, Lucky’s with him. Says he needs to speak to you about something that can’t wait.”
“Fuck me,” Shiv muttered.
Lucky was here. Kori’s stomach bottomed out and her spine straightened. If only she had the superpower of invisibility.
Striker returned to his seat at the table as Jester stepped into the room, Lucky hot on his heels. Of course, his head swiveled in her direction as soon as both feet were through the doorway. He stopped dead in his tracks and zeroed right in on her. Good thing his superpower wasn’t laser eyes because she’d be a pile of embers in her chair.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” he asked in a cold tone she’d yet to hear from him.
The hair on her arms stood on end as shards of ice pricked her heart. The weight of four men’s prying gazes rested heavily on her.
“Hey, Lucky.”